


The Silence Afterwards

by Salamander



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 05:22:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4991785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salamander/pseuds/Salamander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A somewhat fix-it fic for the end of FFXII - what would happen if Noah's wounds weren't fatal?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Silence Afterwards

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LovelyAche](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyAche/gifts).



> Written for my amazing spouse LovelyAche, who inspires me to write basically all the filth I ever write these days <3

The air went still as Noah’s hand dropped from Basch’s. It was as though he could no longer breathe, or his ears had been plugged with cotton. The world reeled, and Basch reeled with it, sinking back onto his heels and slumping down, his entire posture telling defeat.

They’d only just begun to reconcile! How could this happen…how could his brother be taken away from him so suddenly? Life’s reins back in the hands of man? Hah. What good was that when all Basch could do was watch his twin die in front of him?

The image stayed with him, even as Balthier pulled him up and away, enfolding him in his arms for scant comfort. The warmth helped only a little – in truth, Basch felt not a part of his own body. Perhaps he’d died as well, as Noah breathed his last. That was how it worked with twins sometimes, was it not? Like little birds linked at the heart.

The exclamations behind him did not reach his ears, nor did the sudden rush of people brushing past him – right up until a sudden thump rattled through his body. Basch convulsed, still in Balthier’s arms, as though he’d been shocked. He slumped against Balthier, eyes rolling back in his head until darkness and pain claimed him.

\- - -

When Basch came to, he was in a darkened room. It smelled like the sickbay, tiny and makeshift as it was the scent of medicine and sick people was unmistakeable, even in a room only lately requisitioned for such uses.

He rolled to the side with a groan, his head protesting at the movement. A brief glance through slitted eyes told him that he was not alone in the room – indeed, there was one single other bed, occupied. Basch’s eyes would not relay the information, but he didn’t need them to know it was his brother.

“I have died,” he croaked, then chased it with a spluttering cough. “That or hallucinations…” he trailed off as another cough wracked his lungs, forcing his chest into heaving, painful motion. His throat felt raw, and a memory of screams filtered through to him. His own screams.

Basch's arm fell to the side and his fingers stretched towards Noah – he knew it was him in his heart and in his bones – almost not of his own volition. “Noah,” he croaked, before he dragged his legs over the edge of the bed and onto the floor. A few shaky steps and he was there, falling to his knees at his brother's bedside once more.

Only this time, he breathed. Solid and steady, and without that acrid, terrible smell of blood suffusing him. Basch took a deep, sobbing breath, fingers tightening in the coverlets until he revealed flesh. “Noah,” he repeated, louder this time, and was rewarded with a movement, a little sigh and oh- it was real.

“B-Basch?” His voice was muffled by coverlets, and it made Basch smile irrationally.

“Aye, tis me,” he soothed, reaching up to brush blankets away from his brother's face. “Hush now, don't try to move too much.” Basch coughed softly, but his throat was slowly easing. He rose on his knees until he could swing himself up and onto Noah’s bed, sitting down at the edge and looking down at him.

Noah turned, then, and looked up at Basch with bleary eyes. “How am I alive?” he murmured, throat dry and sore. He ached abominably, but he was alive.

“I know about as much as you do.” Basch pulled a face, worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth. “To my knowledge, you had died, there in with your hand in mine.” His heart hurt as the flashbacks hit him; the emotions still raw enough to be painful, despite his brother being alive and well right there in front of him.

Noah lifted back the coverlet, exposing his bandaged chest. It was pristine white, no blood seeping through or smell emanating from it. “A clean wound,” he commented, looking down at it detachedly.

“Mayhaps you are just too stubborn to die from a wound like that.” Basch smiled.

“It would not be the first time one of us has been too stubborn to be worn down,” Noah replied. His brow creased at the memories, and he shook his head to try and dispel them. “Why are you here?” He looked up and directly into Basch’s eyes, honest curiosity stamped plain on his face.

“I suppose they thought to keep an eye on me.” Basch scratched his head softly. “I believe my reaction to your death was somewhat… excessive.”

“Excessive? I see.” Noah looked at his hands. “I would not have thought you cared so much as to have such a reaction.” His voice near cracked, and Basch felt his skin prickle in response.

Basch frowned. “Then you are as much a fool as I am. I felt as though my world had collapsed, and worse.” He reached for Noah’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “You are my mirror,” he murmured. “My twin, my… other half. How could I not have such a reaction to your death?” His hands began to shake at little and before he realised it, tears were collecting at the corners of his eyes. Basch dashed them away with his free hand, then bowed his head to press it against Noah’s hand in his.

Two deep breaths and Basch managed to get hold of himself. He inhaled shakily, then pressed a kiss against his brother’s knuckles.

“Brother-” Noah started, “Basch.” He had no words, so he simply wrapped his other hand around Basch’s and held it until he’d calmed a little.

The light was dim, and Basch felt sleepiness wash over him once more. Clumsily, he moved so that he was lying on Noah’s bed and curled against him, still not quite sure that he wasn’t dreaming.

\- - -

Basch woke with the light this time – the rays dappling through the patterned glass window and across his face. He groaned, then realised just where he was. And, more importantly, who he was with.

Noah shifted with Basch’s movement and noise, turning his head to regard his brother with a baleful eye. “Some of us are supposed to be getting bed rest,” he commented, though a smile played across his lips.

A smile curled on Basch’s lips and he pressed his face into Noah’s neck, inhaling deeply of his scent. “You always did grouse at early mornings. That much has not changed, I see.” Basch lifted his head again, to rest his chin against Noah’s shoulder. “And how is the wound?”

“Better, I think.” Noah lifted the coverlet and peered at it, giving the bandages an experimental touch. He hissed. “Ah! Not so much that I should be poking at it willy nilly, it seems.”

Without really thinking, Basch leaned over and took gentle hold of Noah’s wrist. “Leave it be,” he murmured, “or else you’ll make it scar more than it already will do.” He frowned slightly at his own words. “It seems neither of us can escape scarring in our lifetimes.”

“Scars tell the story of a man’s life,” Noah replied, turning gingerly so he was facing Basch. He brought up his own hand and traced his fingertips down the scar he’d put on his twin’s face.

Basch’s eyes slid closed, and he leaned his face into Noah’s palm. “Do they also spell out regrets?” His voice was gruff, and if it broke, well he wasn’t going to draw attention to it.

Noah’s eyes widened. He pressed his forehead against Basch’s, one hand tangling in his hair. “Oh so many regrets.” His voice was quiet, but their proximity meant Basch had no problem hearing his words.

“Ah now.” Basch’s eyes opened and he gazed into Noah’s, identical as ever, but clouded with pain. “None of that, my brother.” His fingertips rubbed soothing circles against the back of Noah’s hand. “The past is in the past, and I wager there are some who would say dying pays for all sins.”

“But I am not dead,” Noah whispered.

“No, but I swear for a moment your heart stopped.” Basch smiled, emotions chasing across his face. “I felt it in here.” He took Noah’s hand and pressed it against his chest, holding it there to his heart.

Noah almost held his breath. He could feel his brother’s heartbeat against his fingers, near mirroring his own, and he was overcome with emotion.

Basch sensed it, and he leaned in suddenly, taking Noah full in his arms. He wasn’t exactly thinking things through when he bent his head and pressed a soft kiss to his brother’s lips. Basch breathed out, inhaling the scent of Noah as he breathed back in again, eyes flickering closed.

The suddenness of the movements, then the kiss, stole Noah’s breath away. He leaned into Basch, claiming his mouth with hunger and need. Basch scrabbled at Noah’s covers until there was nothing between them but his own clothes, which Noah gingerly helped remove.

And then they were naked, legs twined and crotches together, Noah’s fingers in Basch’s longer hair, Basch’s tongue exploring Noah’s mouth until they could barely tell each other apart. They breathed in sync, and the only sound that filled the little infirmary room was panted breaths and stifled moans.

“Should we be doing this?” Noah murmured, pulling away from Basch’s hungry kiss for a breath of air. “It is wrong, is it not? To lay like this with your brother?” His voice was sombre, but his body’s reaction told a different tale.

Basch smiled softly, though his brow furrowed too. “This feels right,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against Noah’s again. He closed his eyes, trying not to focus on the blood rushing between his thighs. “If we are twins, let us be one in every way possible.”

Noah looked into Basch’s eyes, searching, before giving into his heart and pushing his brother down. He leaned over Basch, the position easier on his wound, and kissed him deeply. Their tongues touched, and Basch sighed into the kiss, hips jerking upwards, wanting more friction, more touch, more everything.

No words passed between them; they didn’t need it. Just breaths and gasps, Basch sucking a kiss into Noah’s neck and Noah grinding his crotch against Basch’s, breathing each other’s air until neither of them could speak for the pleasure of it.

Basch’s hand dipped down and he took hold of both their dicks with a gentle hand. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he gasped, bucking into his own touch and the grind of flesh against flesh.

“You’re not,” Noah replied, eyes closing with pleasure. “Keep doing that, ah!” His movements were carefully jerky, but he winced as it tugged on his wound.

“Stop moving,” Basch cautioned, bending to check the wound. “You need to be more careful, brother. How about you let me do all the work, hm?” Basch bent to Noah, switching their positions carefully until his brother was beneath him and he lay on top, hip pressed to hip. “Here, let me-” With gentle fingers, Basch trailed down Noah’s dick to his entrance, teasing with a fingertip until Noah had to stop himself from writhing.

“For someone telling me to keep still you’re-” Noah gasped, “you’re not helping!” He arched his back off the bed, dick rubbing against Basch’s thigh and oh, it felt so good.

Basch placed a steadying hand on Noah’s belly, fingers spread wide and warm. “I think I’ll need oil,” he murmured, reaching for the cabinet next to them. He knew for a fact that there was some sword-care oil stored in there, and he grunted, pleased, as he found it. He trickled some of the oil onto his fingers, rubbing them together slowly, an eye on Noah’s face for his reactions. God, but he looked good laid there like that.

Using his oil-free hand to steady his brother again, Basch pressed his slicked fingertip against Noah’s entrance. It slid against it easily enough, though there was a natural resistance of course. “Relax,” Basch murmured, rubbing little circles against the muscle. He groaned at the sight of it, wondering just how it was going to feel when he was inside. His finger slid in at that thought and he gasped at how tight Noah was.

Noah’s hands flailed for a second until he managed to wrap his fingers in the coverlets, back desperately trying to arch but for his brother holding him there, steady and warm and soothing. And for the best really – it wouldn’t do his wound any good if he was wriggling and moving so much.

Basch was knuckle deep in Noah, then, and he kept his finger still to avoid too much strain on his brother. “Tell me if it doesn’t feel good,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “I- I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I won’t break!” Noah replied, harsher than he perhaps meant to. “Give me more, Basch, please.”

With a groan, Basch complied, pressing another finger into Noah’s ass. Gods, but he was tight. It was getting easier to move inside him though, the more he stretched and pushed, until he finally thought he might be able to take it a step further. “C-can I?” He bent over Noah and drew him into a long kiss, sighing with pleasure as their tongues touched, slick and hot and so damned good.

“Do it,” Noah breathed, resolute. “I want you inside me, Basch, wrongness be damned!”

Basch took hold of himself, guiding until the head of his dick pushed against Noah’s entrance. It didn’t look as if it would fit by any means, but the heat of it, and the strain, urged him on and he pushed inside with a grunt.

Noah arched underneath him, gasping as the movement pulled on his wound. “Ah, don’t stop there, all the way!” He scrabbled for Basch’s thigh, tugging at him until he slid as deep as he could go, slowly and so blissfully tight.

“You’re so- so tight!” Basch’s head fell against Noah’s chest and he took a few moments to just breathe, adjusting to the sensation of being so thoroughly enveloped by his brother. The heat was unlike anything he’d ever felt, though he was no stranger to relations with women it was nowhere near the same. And even that had been few and far between dalliances, and nothing so serious or meaningful as this was now.

“And you so big-” Noah gasped back, taking deep breaths to let his body accommodate the new sensation of being so damned full. He rolled his hips experimentally, then did it again once he realised that movement didn’t tug on his wound.

And then it was all movement from Basch, pulling out slightly then pushing back in oh so slowly, the oil providing enough lubrication for everything to feel just perfect. The scent of it filled Basch’s nose until he buried his face in Noah’s pale skin. “Being covered in armour every day has made you pale, brother,” he said with a breathy chuckle.

“No more jokes,” Noah hissed, gripping onto Basch’s ass tightly. “Faster now, Basch please.” The pleas in his voice were annoying him, but every part of his body screamed for more and he could barely deny it such pleasure after so long. Noah lost himself in Basch, the smell of him and the slick slide of his dick inside, so big he could feel himself throb around it.

Basch himself wasn’t much better; his breaths were coming short now, and faster with the increase of his speed. In a flash of inspiration, he reached between them and took hold of his brother’s dick, sliding his still-slick fingers around the girth of it and squeezing as he stroked in time with his thrusts.

Noah’s head fell back onto the pillow and he saw stars at the double sensations, digging his fingers hard into Basch’s ass cheeks as the pleasure began to mount inside him. It coiled in his belly, sending tingling sensations all the way to the tips of his toes.

As Noah began to clench more around him, everything felt so tight, so immediate, until Basch couldn’t stop himself from jerking his hips a final time and emptying himself inside his brother with a long groan. His orgasm shivered through his body, hips still jerking from the aftershocks as Noah came too, a breathy whine falling from his lips as he arched then fell back again, sated.

His brother was a pleasant, sticky weight on top of him and the pleasure of his orgasm took Noah’s mind off the pain of his wound, at least for the moment. He sighed, long and deep, eyes slipping closed from bliss. “We need to do that again,” he murmured, voice languid.

“On that, we are in agreement,” Basch mumbled into Noah’s chest. He didn’t feel as though he could move, limbs limp and a satisfied torpor coming over his whole body. “Perhaps we should sleep off the exertion.”

“Hmm. Wouldn’t want to exacerbate my wound now, would we?”

Basch chuckled. He pulled gently out of Noah with a hiss between gritted teeth. His dick was sensitive and hot, still throbbing with pleasure. He pressed himself against Noah’s side, resting his cheek against the meat of his shoulder.

Noah shifted his arm, bringing it up and under Basch until they were pressed together as comfortable as they used to lay when they were boys. “I believe I could sleep for a week, at the very least.”

“Then sleep you shall.” Basch draped one leg over Noah’s thigh, tangling them together comfortably. “Hush, now.” It may have been the morning, but sleep seemed to overtake him as easily as it did his brother, bringing all healing and peace with it.

 


End file.
